She blinked the sleep from her eyes and sat up, glancing down to the lake. Like waterfowl, her family was still romping about and throwing water on each other.
“Why, Sir Roald? What’s the matter?” she asked.
His jaw was rigid as he glanced about uneasily. “If you do not mind, my lady, I will collect the baskets and we will be gone. If you would kindly retrieve your family from the water.”
He was awfully tight and almost forceful. She rose unsteadily, wondering what had the man so spooked. She glanced around as he quickly gathered their things but saw nothing unusual. Puzzled, she began to walk to the lake to do as she had been asked.
And then it struck her. Sir Roald was the only knight present. There had been three. What had happened to the other two? Uneasy, although she knew not why, she hastened to the water’s edge.
Sir Roald had gathered everything into a pile at his feet, although he had not picked anything up. His hand rested on the hilt of his broadsword as he scanned the trees. Something was terribly wrong, although he did not know just what. His knights were missing, not responding to his calls, and he was eager to return to the safety of Mt. Holyoak. Sir Gaston would have his head if anything happened to the lady.
Remington was hustling her son out of the lake when they all heard a high-pitched whine. It was brief, going from barely audible to a loud scream within a mere second, and suddenly Sir Roald went hurtling to the ground in a crash of mail and flesh.
Everyone started violently; Skye and Jasmine screamed loudly. All eyes were riveted to Sir Roald, lying on the ground with an arrow sticking out of his chest and Remington bolted into action.
“Run!” she yelled. “Run for the fortress!”
They tore off as if the devil himself had just burst through the trees. But the moment they started to run, charges broke through the underbrush and hurtled themselves across the green grass, on a direct course for the fleeing family. Remington was terrified; she knew they couldn’t outrun them. But they could lose them in the bramble, if only to slow them down.
“The bushes. Head for the bushes,” she urged everyone, especially Dane. She was panicked for her son’s safety.
They were almost to the dense foliage when the destriers were upon them. Jasmine was grabbed first, followed by Skye. Remington tried to duck away from a large roan horse but she wasn’t swift enough; a huge mailed hand had her by the dress and she was hooked.
She twisted and thrashed as she was hoisted up onto the saddle, punching and kicking with every bit of strength. She lost sight of Dane and Rory; she had not even seen where Charles had gone. Mayhap he was a prisoner, too. She could hear Jasmine screaming and she increased her efforts to free herself.
“Remington!” A voice hissed in her ear. “Stop it. Remington, do you hear me?Stop!”
She recognized the voice but it did not ease her terror. For the moment, she stopped fighting and turned to the helmeted knight.
“Who…who is it?” she gasped.
“Derek,” the knight said. “I came to rescue you.”
She was puzzled now as well as terrified. “Rescue me fromwhat?”
“From de Russe,” he insisted, trying to help her sit straight on the destrier. “Remington, I know you said all those things at the faire because you had to. I told my father what happened and he ordered us to rescue you from Mt. Holyoak. We have been waiting here for a day, waiting for you to come to the lake. I remember how much you loved the lake.”
Her mouth fell open. Her fear was rapidly subsiding, replaced by a vague understanding and full-blown exasperation. “Nay, Derek, you misunderstand. I did not say those things because I had to; I said them because it was the truth. Sir Gaston has been exceedingly generous and kind to us.”
Two knights exploded through the undergrowth, reining their excited animals next to Derek. “Rory and young Dane made it to the castle, Derek. We couldn’t risk being seen when they escaped onto the open road.”
“Calvin,” Remington said accusingly.
“Do not fret, Remi,” Derek assured her calmly. “We shall get them.”
“I do not want you togetthem, I want you to let me go. Let us all go,” she insisted angrily. “Derek, you are crazy. Gaston will kill you when he finds out what you have done.”
“Do not worry,” he repeated to her, then looking at his men. “The escapees will surely alert de Russe. Come now, we ride.”
Remington opened her mouth to protest but Derek took off with such speed she nearly fell off. She clung to the destrier’s saddle, terrified of what was to come.
Knaresborough was nearly ten miles to the southwest. Derek’s father maintained a fair-sized fortress, certainly nothing the size of Mt. Holyoak, and Remington knew instinctively that Gaston would obliterate it in his quest to retrieve her. Derek did not seem to want to listen to her, convinced she was a prisoner of the Dark Knight. He had to listen.
“Derek,” she screamed. “Stop, please.”
He held on to her tightly, ignoring her pleas. She tried repeatedly to convince him to stop, but he did not answer. Instead, he urged his horse harder.
They ran and ran. Remington wasn’t even sure how many men Derek had with him, but she could see that every man was positive they were doing something chivalrous and good.Rescuing damsels in distress from a ruthless overlord. If they would only listen to the truth!
